The Woman In Black
by r4ven3
Summary: This one shot is (possibly) set in early S10, although it hardly matters, since the Grid and Grid personnel get no mention. This is purely a story of family.


An awful lot of tosh has been written about fathers and daughters, although she wouldn't know if any of it was true, given she hardly knows her own father. Apparently half her DNA was provided (willingly, she is sure) by this stern man who sits beside her, gazing at her with a familiar expression she can never accurately interpret. She'd like to believe that he is here because he cares for her, but he never says so. He simply watches her with eyes which convey more apology than love, more sadness than pride, and far more regret and pain than any man should have to endure.

Harry Pearce is an enigma, one even his own daughter cannot decode.

"You don't have to be there," she says, her manner offhand. "I just thought you might want -"

"I want to," he says quickly. "I'd like to be there."

"And if you have someone you'd like to bring ..." Catherine leaves the statement open-ended, after all, she can't imagine him with a woman other than her mother. She's never actually seen him in the company of another woman, and he never mentions having a personal life, so she assumes he hasn't one.

Which is when her father turns his head ever so slightly towards a bench beside the pathway through St James Park, a bench on the other side of the path from where they sit. On this other bench, dressed in a black coat and black boots, a lone woman sits, her brown-haired head bent over the book opened on her lap. As if sensing her father's attention, the woman lifts her head to glance in their direction. It is the briefest moment in time, but with the look which passes between them, Catherine knows that her father and this woman know one another.

"Don't tell me she's one of yours," she says, turning away from him. Bloody spies.

"She's ... my senior intelligence analyst," he says quietly.

Once more, Catherine senses her father's eyes on her, but she doesn't return his gaze, choosing instead to look in the other direction. "Is she spying on me?" she asks, and Harry's response is a short snort.

"Don't flatter yourself," he says. "She's ... with me."

"With _you_? Does that mean what I think it means? Dad ... she can't be any older than me."

"She's ten years older than you, Catherine."

"That's still ... far too young."

"Too young for what exactly?" Catherine detects a hardness in his voice. She's familiar with that tone. It's the `Catherine, go to bed!' tone. It's the `I have nothing more to say on the matter' tone.

"Are you and her ... you know?" she says, not especially wanting to know. Watching Harry carefully, Catherine is pleased to note his discomfort. While she no longer wishes him ill, she is not yet ready to wish him the kind of happiness she has found with Mark.

Catherine's view of her father had always been coloured by her mother's disappointment and sadness, and perhaps even embarrassment resulting frrom the loss of her marriage. As she has grown older, and her view of the world has widened, Catherine is now able to see that rather than being the fault of her father alone, the breakdown of her parents' marriage had perhaps been inevitable, given their clear incompatibility which had emerged once she and her brother had been born. Since she has been meeting Harry regularly, memories have been emerging, memories of a playful Harry, one who gave her rides on his shoulders, and chased her and her brother around the back yard while pretending to be a moose.

So she has decided to give Harry a chance, to invite him to her wedding, and leave the rest up to him.

"We're close, yes," she hears him say at last. "We've known one another for a long time, but have only been ... together for a couple of months."

Catherine turns her head to see the slightest of smiles on Harry's lips, and she is shocked by how different he appears when not drowning in guilt and sadness. She glances past him to see that the woman in black is watching them, and that she doesn't look away under Catherine's scrutiny. Brave woman. "I'm glad," she says, and she is surprised that she means it. She drops her eyes to her hands, which rest in her lap. "Why don't you introduce her?" she asks.

"To you?"

Catherine lifts her eyes then, and turns to face her father. "That's generally the way it works. If she's important to you, and you're planning to have her accompany you to my wedding, then ... I'd like to meet her."

Harry nods, and turns again to make eye contact with the woman in black, who has been watching them for the past minute or two. All he does is dip his head towards her, and she closes her book, sliding it into her bag on the seat beside her. Catherine watches as the woman slowly walks towards them, her head down, her hair bobbing on her shoulders in time with her stride. As the woman nears them she lifts her head, and Catherine sees the lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth. She is not such a young woman after all, but one who has loved and lost and cried real tears. In the brief moment before the woman in black reaches them, Catherine hopes this woman has enough love left in her to make her father happy, and this thought surprises even her.

As the woman reaches their bench, Harry stands and takes a step towards her. He reaches out with one hand and grasps her elbow, drawing her to his side, before he slides his hand around so that it rests at the small of her back. Then he turns with her, so that they both face Catherine, who still sits, watching with surprise as her dad and this woman dressed as though she has just attended a funeral, stand close together, as though they'd been hewn from the same flesh. She can't help but stand, smiling at them both.

"I'm Catherine," she says, reaching out to shake the woman's hand. "Catherine Townsend. I'm Harry's daughter."

"Ruth. Ruth Evershed," the woman says, shaking her hand. "I'm Harry's ..."

"I know. He told me," Catherine says quickly, saving Ruth the embarrassment of attempting to define in words her relationship with the man who stands beside her, a rare softness in his eyes.

Ruth's handshake is firm, and her voice is deeper than Catherine had expected. She is surprised to find that she instantly likes this woman. "Dad has something to ask you," she says, not expecting the shocked expression her statement brings to both her father and his Ruth. "I'm getting married," she prattles on, wishing she could simply shut up and let her father take over, but she can't. Whenever she's nervous, or in a situation over which she has little control, Catherine talks ... and talks. "The wedding is in three months, so there's plenty of time for me to back out, should I want to, but I don't, and neither does Mark. I asked Dad if he wants me to send him an invitation, and then I asked him -"

"Catherine .."

"- did he want to come to the wedding, especially as my brother will be there, and he's been overheard threatening to boycott any family do where Dad will be attending, and then I thought he might like to bring -"

" _Catherine_."

"What? Sorry." Catherine shakes her head in embarrassment. "Sorry. I tend to run off at the mouth. It's just that -"

" _Catherine!_ " Harry says, this time surprising both women with his vehemence.

"Harry." Ruth's voice is gentle, and it immediately calms her father. Interesting. "Why don't you ask me ... what you were going to ask me."

All the while Ruth has been speaking, her father has been watching her, his eyes on her face, only briefly dropping to her mouth, and then back to her eyes. "Ruth," he says quietly, so quietly that Catherine can barely hear him, "will you honour me with your company at the wedding of my beloved daughter?"

"Steady on, Dad. Ruth will be thinking we're posh."

Harry still watches Ruth's face. "She already knows we're not."

"I'd love to, Harry," Ruth says, holding his eyes, and then turning slightly so that she holds Catherine's gaze. "I'd love to attend your wedding, Catherine. It would be my honour."

"Well ..." Catherine says, "that's settled then." Catherine turns away from the couple, and then back again. "I really ought to go."

"We should go," Ruth says, lifting her eyes to Harry's, who is gazing fondly at Catherine. Harry nods.

Realising that the three of them could still be standing beside this bench at sunset, deciding who ought to be returning to work first, Ruth makes the first move. "I have so much to be doing back at Thames House," she says. "It was lovely to meet you, Catherine," she adds, warmly shaking Catherine's hand. Then she turns towards Harry. "I'll see you back at work," she says quietly, glancing her fingertips along his arm, before quickly heading down the path towards the exit.

Harry and Catherine watch as Ruth quickly moves out of sight. "I hadn't expected you to be attracted to someone like her," Catherine says, too late realising that she has spoken the words aloud.

"Nor me," her father says obliquely. "No-one is more surprised than I am," he adds.

* * *

4 weeks later:

"You're inviting your father and _partner_?" Jane Townsend stares at her daughter over the top of her reading glasses, something she knows drives Catherine mad ... and which is the chief reason she does it.

"Ruth. I told you about her. I'm sure I did," Catherine says airily.

"If you did I wasn't in the room with you at the time," Jane says, still staring across the dining table at her first born, the table littered with random lists and seating plans.

"She's lovely."

"You've _met_ her?" When Catherine nods, Jane continues her interrogation, which Catherine knows will only end when all the information is on the table, and has been fully digested by her mother. "What's she like?"

"She's ... not what I expected at all. She works with Dad, and she's gentle, and clever, and quiet, and kind, and best of all, she adores Dad ... and he her, of course."

Catherine watches while her mother lifts her eyebrows until they almost reach her hair line. " _Well_ ," she says emphatically, "that _is_ unexpected."

"Unexpected that she's rather lovely, or unexpected that she adores Dad?"

"Both. I hadn't expected Harry to ever settle again for one woman."

"I don't think he's _settling_ , Mum. He genuinely loves her."

"I suppose that's a good thing, then," Jane says, smiling, "isn't it?"

"You'll behave?"

Jane appears genuinely shocked. "Of _course_ I'll behave. Whatever made you say that?"

"I really can't imagine."

They sit in silence for a long moment, which Catherine knows from past experience cannot last long. And it doesn't.

"And Graham?" her mother asks at last.

"What about him?"

"He'll be at your wedding."

"He and Dad are fine now." They're not, but they're both making an effort.

"Does he know about ... Ruth?"

"Yes, and he's met her, too."

" _Met_ her? So ... why haven't _I_ met her?"

Catherine stares at her mother. Does the woman really not know? "I can't imagine," she says, hoping that her intended sarcasm has hit its mark.

"Shouldn't I at least meet your father's partner ... _before_ your wedding?"

"No, Mum, you shouldn't. You can meet her on my wedding day."

And she does.

* * *

9 weeks later:

"You look beautiful," her father says to her, one of his hands curved around Ruth's hand. Catherine knows how Harry hates large social gatherings.

"Thanks, Dad. You look rather spiffy yourself."

Harry had not walked Catherine down the aisle, or given her away. Catherine had declared the tradition to be sexist and outdated, and that she'd rather her's and Mark's marriage be a clear symbol of them being in a bond of equals.

"Can we have the happy couple and the groom's parents?" the photographer calls, trying - and barely succeeding - to get people moving into an orderly group.

"That's my call," Catherine says, hurrying across the lawn to join Mark and his parents in front of the oak tree.

"You must be Ruth," says a smooth voice from behind Ruth and Harry. Harry recognises the voice, and turns, his right hand still grasping Ruth's. "Jane," he says, "meet my partner, Ruth."

Ruth reaches out to shake Jane's hand. She feels the older woman's eyes scanning her from top to toe and back. "Lovely to meet you," Jane says, smiling. "Catherine has told me all about you."

Ruth glances up at Harry to see one eyebrow lifted. _Behave yourself_ , she thinks, hoping that they are telepathically linked, as they often seem to be. She then looks back at Jane. "Catherine is a delight. You've done a wonderful job bringing her up."

Beside her, Ruth feels Harry relax, while Jane visibly preens beneath the praise bestowed upon her.

"Now can we have the bride's parents with the bride and groom?" The photographer sounds tired, clearly wilting in the summer sun.

Ruth, Harry and Jane quickly cover the distance to the large oak tree at the edge of the lawned area. Then Ruth stands aside while Harry and Jane stand either side of the newlyweds while their photograph is taken.

"Now, can we have the parents and siblings of the bride and groom?"

Ruth watches while Graham joins the wedding party, along with Mark's parents, sister and brother-in-law, and their five-year-old daughter. The photographer is set up, and ready to take the shot, when Catherine turns around, her eyes finding Harry.

"Where's Ruth?" she asks.

"She's over there," her mother says, nodding towards where Ruth stands, unaware that she has become the subject of a discussion.

"She needs to be in this shot," Catherine says, stepping away from Mark. "Ruth?"

Hearing her name, Ruth looks up to see Harry striding towards her. When he reaches her, he takes her hand. "Catherine wants you to join us," he says, pulling her by the hand.

Ruth resists. "But I'm not family," she replies.

"You're as good as," Harry says. "Come on. You wouldn't want to disappoint Catherine on her wedding day ... would you?"

Ruth throws him a dark look, but by the time she is settled beside him, she in a sky blue dress, and he in a light grey suit, with a tie in the same shade of blue as her dress, they are both smiling, and Catherine's wish is granted. Standing one side of her is her new husband, while on her other side is her father, then Ruth, who is next to Jane, and on the end is Graham.

"The next wedding will be yours," Catherine whispers to Harry, just loud enough for her words to be heard by him alone, before she turns back to gaze at the camera while the shot is taken.

When that particular shot is printed, it can be seen that Catherine is staring right down the lens, while Harry is wearing a wide smile.


End file.
